


To Count On

by louisnoel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Might be OOC, but you could see it as a set-up, it's up to you basically, seriously this is just friendship, sorry if ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisnoel/pseuds/louisnoel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto isn't a thinker, much less an over-thinker. This much he is certain of; he should know himself at least a little bit. Other people know their own characteristics and quirks, too, don't they? They do. So everything should be fine.<br/>Except it isn't.</p><p>Birthday present for tumblr user 03yaku! They asked me for jealous Bokuto and I hope I delivered :> Sorry if ooc, Fukurodani turned out not to be my forte...</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Count On

Bokuto isn't a thinker, much less an over-thinker. This much he is certain of; he _should_ know himself at least a little. Other people know their own characteristics and quirks, too, don't they? They do. So everything should be fine.

Except it isn't.

It all starts one night, late (or, depending on your perspective, early), close to half past two. Bokuto can't sleep, so he does the logical thing to do: text Akaashi about anything and everything that comes to mind. That anime he watches. A video game that just hit the stores. Stupid cat videos. Those mad dance moves in that one music video (not to mention the music is superb, too). It doesn't matter. Because Akaashi is a great friend: He never takes long to respond, and he sounds interested, commenting on each text Bokuto sends him.

But tonight is different. No matter what Bokuto attempts, Akaashi flat-out ignores all his attempts at conversation. Bokuto tries to stay up a little longer, just past two should suffice, but of course he doesn't make it. His pout will make his mouth tingle when he wakes up.

* * *

There is something nagging at Bokuto and he can't place it. Something must have happened last night, something that makes him chew his lower lip and walk with his shoulders drawn up, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. It's frustrating that he might not only have forgotten something, but something important. The stone he kicks out of his way on the way to school isn't the first one today.

When he throws open the gym doors and takes the first step into the light-flooded gym, ready for morning practice, he is greeted by Komi's loud voice announcing that, "Everyone take cover, Captain's in a bad mood!"

Bokuto can't help gnashing his teeth together. "I am not!" A snort is coming from somewhere. Bokuto turns in the general direction of the sound to see the whole team standing in an arrangement behind Onaga. The first year half-turns around in obvious distress. Wait. This isn't the whole team, Bokuto rectifies his previous thought as he walks towards his team members. He scrunches up his face and folds his arms, his fingers tapping against his biceps. "Where's Akaashi?"

"He's not here," Sarukui answers, peeping from behind Onaga. "Maybe he's late? So are you."

Bokuto grinds his teeth and pouts. "He's never late."

"He might be ill."

Sarukui's hypotheses are not helping Bokuto keep a cool head. Morning practice turns into a chore.

* * *

Bokuto isn't a hundred percent sure, but he thinks he's spotted Akaashi during lunch. Gripping his lunch bag in a way that makes the paper crumble, Bokuto makes his way to the familiar nest of slightly ruffled hair in long strides. The students around him part for him like for that one bible guy. Was it Moses or Jesus? Well, Akaashi'd know. "Akaashi! Hey!"

Akaashi turns his head in Bokuto's general direction. The bags under his eyes are pronounced today. "Ah, Bokuto-san. Good morning."

"Akaashi!" Bokuto screeches in a demanding tone. He doesn't care, even when half the school is looking at him funny. "I have a question: Was it Moses or Jesus who parted the sea?"

The girl Akaashi has been talking to until the arrival of Bokuto squints at the third year, then shakes her head. Akaashi gives a ragged sigh. "Moses."

"Aha! I knew you'd know it, Akaashi. You're the man."

Akaashi's mouth stretches into a thin line. "Thank you. And I don't mean to make you leave already, but we," his eyes darted to the girl, then back to Bokuto, "have something important to discuss."

Bokuto raises one of his eyebrows. "I see, I see." Akaashi rolls his eyes and turns back towards the girl. Bokuto looks around himself; there must be something nearby he can discuss Moses's abilities with, and if they were any good to him in a volleyball match.

* * *

When Konoha asks Akaashi during afternoon practice, "Why did you skip this morning?" Bokuto remembers his irritation at Akaashi. There has been another reason he's wanted to talk to him during lunch and he winged it.

"I've been wondering, too," Bokuto chirps in and closes the distance between himself and his two teammates.

Akaashi turns his head in Bokuto's direction, then looks back to Konoha. "I had a rough night and wasn't able to sleep. I overheard the alarm this morning."

"This can't be true!" Bokuto reaches to his pants to retrieve his phone in vain because it was in his school uniform's pants, not in his sport shorts. "I texted you and you didn't answer! You would have if you'd been awake."

The look on Akaashi's face is strained and oh-so exhausted. "I had forgotten to charge my phone. The battery was dead."

Bokuto narrows his eyes at Akaashi but the latter just stares back with the same tireless exhaustion he's been displaying all day. Heaving a ragged sigh, Bokuto looks down at the floor, then back up. He's going to let it slide. "If you say so..."

He wishes the rest of the practice session had gone by all right but his eyes dart away from the ball and the action on the court towards Akaashi. Akaashi whose eyes narrow into slits at Bokuto's constant misses (he doesn't even hit the ball half the time much less strike it over the net). Akaashi who keeps biting back his displeasure, opening his mouth and then closing it again. Akaashi who, after a while, chooses to ignore Bokuto's futile efforts and concentrate on people who _do_ hit the ball instead.

It's frustrating.  It comes as no surprise that Bokuto wings the rest of the afternoon practice. Afterwards, he wants to approach Akaashi, but the setter has left early. How Bokuto has failed to notice he can't say. Perhaps he shouldn't have practised  sweet  dance moves in the middle of the court as soon as Akaashi started ignoring him.

* * *

The following day isn't much different, but the ones after border on a catastrophe. Bokuto's attention span slims from short to non-existent. He manages to skip classes by accident, he forgets his school bag twice, and volleyball practice becomes a predicament not only for him, but the whole team.

"For goodness's sake, Bokuto!" Komi yells at him when he misses another one of the libero's tosses (Akaashi has long since stopped bothering). "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Bokuto stares at his right hand. Usually, it's slightly red by this time during practice, but it just looks normal today. He hasn't hit the ball a single time, and he's had plenty of opportunities during the libero's setting drills. There's something in his throat and his eyes feel funny. "I don't know," he says, and it comes out choked so he clears his throat, and tries again. "I don't know!"

"Look at me," Komi says, and when Bokuto still hides his eyes with his arm, Komi repeats himself. "Bokuto, look at me."

Bokuto does, lowering his arm, and hears a muffled, "Oh shit," followed by Konoha turning away from him. Bokuto knows his crying face is ugly, but it's not this horrible, is it?

"Good," Komi says, a fake smile plastered on his face. He walks up to Bokuto, places his hands on his shoulders and looks up into his face. "I'm not your mum. And it's not exactly my job to make sure everyone on this team takes care of themselves properly, all right?" He waits for Bokuto to nod in acknowledgement before he continues. "But you promise me this: You go home now." Bokuto opens his mouth to protest but Komi narrows his eyes and talks over his wails. "You're not good to us in your condition today anyway. So you pack your stuff and go. And then you're going to treat yourself. Eat a whole bowl of ice cream or watch afternoon anime or, hell, do both. Take a good long shower. Take your time today. Do whatever you have to to feel better."

Bokuto nods. "Komi, you're such a good--"

"And tomorrow you're back to normal or I'll kick your ass so hard you better bring an oxygen tank."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to need it once you leave the Earth's atmosphere."

* * *

It's been a week. Bokuto misses morning practice by chance (he overslept) and Akaashi is still occupied with another girl than the one from before today. "Stupid ladies' man" is all that's running through Bokuto's head at the sight, and he turns away with the lunch tray in his hands and spilling his milk. He'll just be in the way again, won't he?

* * *

Akaashi doesn't toss to him during the practice match. He's spared Bokuto a grand total on _one_ glance, and that's that. No balls to spike over the net for Bokuto. Instead, Konoha basks in glory and gives him these stupid smirks that say, "Today I'm the ace," and Bokuto clenches his fists.

And then the impossible happens. "Bokuto!" Komi  calls , jumping to toss him the ball from behind the defence line. Bokuto's head snaps up, eyes following the arch of the ball, legs pumping to bring him to the correct place at the right time.  His arm moves like a whip and  connects with the ball dead centre, hitting it across the court  with both precision and  velocity . The blockers can't do anything, the libero and other players diving at the ball in vain.

H is feet hit the ground and Bokuto's first move is to turn to Konoha and grin, smug ness evident , an eyebrow raised. "Well?" From the corner of his eye he sees Akaashi whisper something to Komi and Bokuto steels himself with a deep breath.

Konoha crosses his arms. "You're making me take it back,  aren't you ?"

"Yes."

The grin on Konoha's face is mischievous. "Your wish is my command, captain." He throws in a salute that causes Bokuto's eye to  twitch.  His satisfaction is gone.

There isn't any time to get worked up over something so simple, Bokuto reminds himself as the whistle blows for his team's serve.  He gets back into position, watches their opponents receive in a stagger and return the ball. "Chance ball!" Komi yells and receives, passing the ball to Akaashi.

Akaashi who spares him the second glance today, and with a firm and clear, "Bokuto-san," tosses the ball to him. With his tongue sticking out ever so slightly, Bokuto reminds himself that this had better be good, that this _has got_ to be good. He takes a steadying breath before running up and leaping into the air to strike the ball.

A fterwards, he doesn't remember why he did, but Bokuto takes his eyes off the ball for just a fleeting moment, a minuscule split second, to look at Akaashi. He can recall his face at that exact moment perfectly, the squinting of his eyes, the concentration daring to draw lines on his smooth forehead, the way his hair struggles against gravity as he falls back down from his jump. The light catches in his form just so, showing off his skin and eyes in a seeming glow.

But this one decision is all it takes for Bokuto to lose all semblance of concentration he's gathered. And the way his hand and the net become a tangled mess, the volleyball landing, forgotten, outside the court, and rolling away even farther, and the collective groan  emanating from his teammates bring him back to reality.

" I..." he begins as soon as he's back on his feet, back  turned  to his team, eyes squeezed shut against today's rivals. They are reeling. "I screwed up big, didn't I?"  His voice comes out strained and small.  There's something clogging up his throat and it's making it hard to breathe and  speak and not  weep .

He's met with a couple of affirmations, then Fukurodani's coach  Yamiji says, "Bokuto, your performance today is, how do I put it?" Bokuto didn't dare open his eyes. "Underwhelming at best."  He gulps. "I think it's best to pull you from the team for now."

Bokuto does open his eyes then, just enough to walk to the bench in his best zombie impression, void of anything but mental pain. It's okay, he tells himself, but when he hears Konoha's voice ring out, "Ace? More like lost his face!" he can stop neither the tears nor his feet as they make their steady way out of the hall and towards the chancing rooms.

Akaashi's stern scolding of, "Konoha-san, this was unasked for and you know it. Please go apologise," reaches Bokuto muffled and hard to decipher.

* * *

Bokuto makes it a point to ignore his alarm the next morning. It doesn't matter that he won't be able to sleep anymore now that it's gone off; he just wriggles back under the covers after hitting the snooze button and closes his eyes in a much-deserved doze. Seeing as no one on his team thinks him worth tossing to much less calling the team's ace anymore, he won't be missed at morning practice. And this one extra hour that he can stay in bed will make Bokuto at least feel a little better about himself.

Come to think of it, he should skip afternoon practice too and perhaps rinse and repeat his behaviour tomorrow. That'll show 'em! Not to mention he won't run into any of their scheming bully faces this way.

Ahhh, yes, Bokuto thinks with a smile on his lips, this will teach them a lesson.

* * *

There's a critical flaw in his plan, Bokuto realises as he shoves a sandwich into his mouth during lunch. For some reason, he has forgotten that he usually hangs out with Akaashi in their break. He's reminded by his friend's frame drawing in towards him. Bokuto knows his eyes are bulging in shock but it's worth a try turning around in case Akaashi hasn't noticed.

This is Akaashi, Bokuto reminds himself as he hears his voice inquiring, "Bokuto-san?" A rustle of clothes indicates Akaashi having sat down next to him.

Well, his face is stuffed anyway and how many times has Akaashi told Bokuto he shouldn't speak with his mouth full? Bokuto keeps chewing, extra slowly. Serves Akaashi right for berating him all the time!

This plan, too, falls flat because Akaashi doesn't bother talking to him. Out of the corner of his eye Bokuto watches him eat way too many onigiri in way too little time. Bokuto blinks and turns his attention back to eating his sandwich at a deliberate snail's pace. This goes on for the duration of the break. It's tiring. Only a few more minutes, a short glance at the clock hung above the entrance to the lunch room reveals. Bokuto licks the remaining sandwich traces off his fingers to stall for time. Why doesn't Akaashi talk to one of his lady friends today of all days?

"Bokuto-san? Is everything all right?" Bokuto turns to Akaashi who's fixing him with a concerned look. "You've been acting... stranger than usual."

Bokuto gulps. His heart is beating fast for some reason. He wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants. "I have not."

Akaashi's piercing gaze doesn't waver in the slightest. "You have. I'm concerned." He sighs, eyes never leaving Bokuto. "So please tell me: Is everything all right?"

Swallowing again, Bokuto shoves his tray away from him. He throws his hands up. "Yes! No!" Standing up, Akaashi's eyes following him, he says what he's wanted to say for weeks now. It just breaks out of him. "Akaashi, we have to talk. I've been--"

The bell rings, signalling the end of the lunch break. Students all around them scramble up and about to make it to their next class in time. Akaashi stands up. His body betrays his restlessness that his eyes cover up. "We'll talk this afternoon, if you're coming to practice." When Bokuto opens his mouth to announce his next idea, Akaashi interrupts him. "No, I'd rather refrain from texting in class."

"I'll be there." Good thing he brought his sport gear out of habit by accident, then.

Akaashi flashes Bokuto one of his rare smiles. Bokuto resolves not to screw up. "Later, then."

"Yes, see you later."

* * *

Yesterday's strike was a fluke, a chance hit that cannot be reproduced. There's no other explanation, Bokuto is convinced, as he keeps missing and striking at air. Only when the session is almost over, Bokuto gets more and more strikes in. Every time he runs up to the net, his eyes seem to clear up more and more, and his focus improves along with his hit-to-miss ratio. His heart ceases its hammering and Bokuto is in control of his body the first time since... he doesn't remember how long he's felt off. But it's stopped and his strikes become missiles to be feared.

"Did you see that?" Bokuto turns around and points in the direction he's stricken the ball. Its impact on the gym floor was audible even a few metres away.

"Yes, we did," Akaashi answers.

Bokuto raises an eyebrow. The grin his lips draw into is smug and full of confidence. "Who's the ace?"

"All hail to the ace," Konoha says in a rather unenthusiastic way. Sarukui has his arms crossed and nods. Washio slow-claps. Komi looks ready to beat box to the claps' beat. Onaga regards the rest of his team with suspicion whereas Akaashi looks like he's embracing the idea of death.

"Let me spike some more balls and show you how it's done," Bokuto says. With his new-found confidence, both form and aim perfect, he hits ball after ball, not even giving the other players a chance to proof their skills. He's so preoccupied with himself and his flawless performance that he doesn't even notice the other players flock out, only Akaashi staying to toss him the balls. Even the coach and the managers are gone by the time Bokuto realises everyone has left. "Where is everybody?" he asks and turns towards Akaashi, eyebrows raised with equal parts confusion and accusation.

"They've gone home."

"Why?" His eyebrows draw down.

"It's late. Practice ended fifteen minutes ago." Akaashi passes him on his way to collect the balls. "Perhaps they were also wary of the 'calm before the storm'."

"Haaah? What's that supposed to mean?"

"In your case, Bokuto-san, it means that you're calm right now and hitting every ball dead centre. However, as soon as you miss the first one, you become agitated and irritated. This is the 'storm'." Bokuto has been narrowing his eyes throughout this explanation. He isn't sure he understands fully, just as he isn't sure this is even important. "Would you help me clean up?"

"Yes!"

Bokuto puts the net down and is about to store it away when Akaashi asks, "Bokuto-san, you said we needed to talk. And now would be a good a time as any, don't you agree?"

Right, there is something, something that's been nagging at him for some time now. This is it. Bokuto steels his breath. "You've stopped answering my texts. You're not talking to me at lunch anymore. Except for today and those two balls yesterday, you haven't been tossing to me lately. It's always other people you seem to care about. And whenever I think about it, there's this pain in my chest. It used to be fun talking to you but now I'm afraid you don't like me anymore. I feel like such a bother to you, a burden, an attention whore, loud and annoying. I--"

"Stop that thought." When has Akaashi become so blurry and Bokuto's throat so thin that it made breathing hard? "Sorry for interrupting you, Bokuto-san, but you're drowning in self-pity. Everything you're saying about yourself is nonsense. You've never been a bother nor a burden." Akaashi takes a step towards him. Then another. "I've been busy with school work the past few weeks. I had many projects to discuss, prepare and present. My teachers flooded us with homework and extra credit. And I see now that I've been neglecting you too much." Something tucks at Akaashi's lips, and Bokuto smiles, too. "It has to have bothered you so much subconsciously that you missed all those tosses."

Bokuto's eyes widen. "This must be it!" He looks at his palm, reddened from his excessive striking exercises, and balls his hand into a fist. When he raises his head, Akaashi is smiling at him. It's not a grand gesture; his lips are barely pulled up, but his eyes say everything his mouth doesn't. "You're so smart, Akaashi!"

Averting his eyes now, Akaashi's cheeks turn a little red. "Thank you." He takes a deep breath and his complexion returns to normal, but his eyes still hold the glimmer from receiving a compliment taken to heart. "Friends?"

Bokuto laughs. "We've never been not friends!"

**Author's Note:**

> hijackedbylou.tumblr.com


End file.
